Year: 2009

A lego in the dirt

Sue Fagalde Lick childless house, Legos, toys

I found a red Lego toy piece in the yard yesterday. It’s a small plastic rectangle, its holes crusted with dirt. Where did it come from? My life with Fred has never included Legos, although I have played with them in doctors’ waiting rooms and other people’s houses. I have always liked toys with which you could build things. But how did a Lego get here? We haven’t even had any young children visit us in the 11 years Fred and I have owned this house. Our house is surrounded by trees, no other house close enough for toys to wander our way.

The only answer is that the dogs dug up a piece of history from the family that lived here before, the Fends. They had four children, two sons and two daughters. Big pictures of them hung on the living room walls. Their oldest daughter was living on her own. The younger daughter, high school age, had cerebral palsy. We met her crawling from her bedroom into the hallway the day we took our second look at the house.

The room I use as my office belonged to the boys, who slept in bunk beds and left color crayon marks on the walls. While the older boy worked at his computer, the younger boy showed me his craft projects sitting on the windowsill. Now the walls have been repainted, the windows replaced, and the closet turned into a file room. My desk, shelves and writing paraphernalia fill the room where the boys used to sleep.

The Fends fell on hard times and had to leave the house that was probably the only home their children had known. Now it is a home where all signs of children have been erased. Souvenirs from our travels and our collections of ruby glass and shot glasses decorate the living room and den. It is definitely not a childproof house. But why bother? Children don’t come here.

I don’t want to throw the Lego piece away. It’s as if I have found one piece, and now I need to find the puzzle to which it belongs. I think that’s how it always is with childless women. Something is missing. We’ve got one lost Lego and we don’t know what to do with it.

Dog motherhood is tough

Sue Fagalde Lick Chico and Annie, dog babies, sprained wrist

I’m typing this with a sprained wrist. The other day the dogs and I had a disagreement and I wound up flying through the air straight at the back wall of the house. I hit with my right hand, right knee and the left side of my glasses. This isn’t the first time the dogs have caused me to fall. I can remember sitting on the beach a few months ago wondering if I’d ever get up after little (70-pound) Chico got scared by the waves coming at him. I had some major bruises, but I walked away. This time I got a trip to the ER, a splint, an enforced vacation from my music and a major slowdown in my writing. I am not supposed to be typing, but this hurts a lot less than doing dishes.

Anyway, Chico and Annie, 19-month-old lab-bull terrier siblings, have never and would never attack me. They’re just big, and they play rough. Sometimes they’re stubborn. Many of my friends, my father, my pastor and others are recommending that I get rid of the dogs. Only one friend, who is childless by marriage like me, insists that I can’t possibly get rid of my babies. They are my babies, having arrived in my arms at 8 weeks old, when they were 8 and 9 pounds. I have certainly considered looking for a family to love them. They are good with other people, including children, but a little scary with other dogs. Still they are the only company I have in this house these days, and the quiet would be unbearable. Right now they are sleeping in the living room, but any minute, Chico or Annie could come into my office and lay a warm nose in my lap. I would miss that.

These being the only “babies,” I’ll ever have, I feel an obligation to care for them as long as I can. Maybe I can’t keep them forever, but I intend to try. I’m still training them. They have already learned so much. They knock me down, but they also make me laugh and give me someone to hug when I need it. And these days, with no kids and my husband in a nursing home, I need it.

Is he worth it?

Sue Fagalde Lick childless by marriage, men who don't want children, women who don't want children

By the time Fred let me know that he didn’t want any more children, I was in love with him and we were planning to get married. That left me with a difficult choice: stay with the man I loved or leave him in the hope I would find someone else who wanted children. I chose Fred.

It’s a terrible choice to have to make. I interviewed another woman last week who found herself in a similar predicament except that they were already married. At first, neither she nor her husband had much interest in having children. However, she gradually changed her mind. He didn’t. In fact, when she confessed her desire for babies, he stood firm, telling her that if she couldn’t live without being a mother, she would have to find someone else. She chose to stay with her husband. Not having children causes her great pain, but she’s certain she made the right decision.

Another woman told me she had left her home in another country to be with the man she loved. Only after she had said goodbye to home, family and job did he inform her that the daughter he had from a previous marriage was all the children he wanted. When I talked to her, she was still trying to decide what to do, knowing she was running out of time if she wanted to conceive a child.

Every woman I know who is childless by marriage has heard the suggestion that she forget her birth control accidentally on purpose and get pregnant. Once that happened, he would come around. But we all know that’s not necessarily true. Besides, how could you trick someone you love on a matter that is so important?

Women are not the only ones in this predicament. Sometimes it’s the man who wants children and finds that his wife/partner does not. So how do you decide? What do you think? Is it worth dropping an otherwise wonderful partner to look for someone who is willing to have children?

…"childless author" Sue Fagalde Lick says …

Sue Fagalde Lick Angela Merkel, Chldless Stepmums, SecondWivesClub, Stepdivas

Hey! How come every article about German Chancellor Angela Merkel has to mention that she’s childless? Does every article about President Obama mention that he has two kids? No. Does every mention of media billionaire Oprah Winfrey preface her name with the word “childless”? No, and why should it? It’s irrelevant. Surely Merkel has other qualities. When she was running for election the first go-round, women protested that she couldn’t possibly understand the needs of families–couples with children–because she didn’t have any of her own. Come on. She doesn’t live in a bubble. Do the women on our U.S. Supreme Court have children? I don’t know. I don’t care. What matters is their ability to do the job. So let’s leave Angela alone. Besides, sticking an adjective in front of a name is just bad writing.

 

I Don’t Hate Kids

Sue Fagalde Lick Do childless women hate kids? Children on airplanes

My sister-in-law thinks I don’t like children. Not true. If I flinched or made a wisecrack whenever parents and small children invaded our space during our recent visit, it wasn’t the kids that bothered me. Most children are charming when they’re not shrieking. I love their freshness, the way everything is new to them, the way they seem to learn and grow so quickly. No, it’s how their parents behave around them that drives me nuts.

Having been surrounded by wee ones and parents on my trip to California this last weekend, I saw a lot of behavior that made me grit my teeth. Why do some parents feel the need to narrate every moment while others let their kid kick the back of my airplane seat all the way from Sacramento to Portland? Why would a mother bring a noisy toy to a restaurant and encourage her to use it, oblivious to the other customers’ growing annoyance? Of course, I saw good parents, too. On the way home, I sat behind a couple with the world’s most attractive little boy. They did an excellent job of teaching and disciplining him and supporting each other without being obnoxious.

No, I like kids and wish I had one or two. And yes, I would probably be one of the most annoying parents on the plane instead of the grumpy grownup I appear to be.

Gladiola among the poppies

Sue Fagalde Lick Gladiolas, Radical Acceptance

Gladiola bulbs in my front yard shoot up green spearlike leaves every summer, but they don’t bloom every year. Many years, the leaves are all I get. But when they do bloom, the tall salmon-colored flowers outshine everything in the garden.

We childless women are like those gladiolas. Unlike the poppies that consistently fill my garden every summer and fall and are now blooming from the cracks in my driveway and hanging out over the sidewalk, the gladiolas rarely reproduce. Perhaps it’s because I’m a negligent gardener or because the weather is too intense here. I get one bloom per plant and then it disappears, but oh that flower is special.

Maybe the book I’m reading, Radical Acceptance: Embracing Your Life with the Heart of a Buddha, has influenced my thoughts today, but I find myself content with things as they are. My life, although different from that of most people, a puzzle to my family and friends, is exactly what it was meant to be. I have never followed the usual path, and that’s okay.

Instead of bemoaning our lack of children, let us consider that you and I are gladiolas, unique and glorious all by ourselves.

I Know the Feeling

Sue Fagalde Lick kids and dogs, mom club

Yesterday at the post office, I met a woman I interviewed years ago when she was the single, carefree skipper of a charter boat in Depoe Bay. At that time, Shelly only had to worry about her perfectly behaved German Shepherd. Last year, we met again at dog-training class, where she had a new Shepherd and I had my two giant lab/bully dogs.

Much has changed for both of us over the years–and not just dogs. My husband lives in a nursing home, and I’m alone with the dogs. Shelly is married and has two little boys. She has given up her fishing business to be a wife and mom. Alas, sometimes children can be as exasperating as puppies. When I entered the post office, Shelly and one of the boys were on the floor under the mail deposit box. The boy was having a tantrum while his brother leaned against the counter laughing, showing his tongue and two missing teeth.

“How are you?” I asked the beautiful blonde, freckled mom.
“I’ve had better moments,” she said, struggling to hold the wild-eyed child.
I nodded and went on to my P.O. Box to collect my junk mail. I could hear her saying some of the very things I might say to my dogs: Stop it, sit up, keep still, be quiet. But in the middle of a tantrum it doesn’t work any better with kids than it does with dogs–and I have the cuts and bruises to prove it.

Parenting is tough. I’m not equating dogs with children. Kids grow up, but both take a lot of energy when they’re young and early training is vital. I wonder if sometimes Shelly remembers those days out at sea on the Lady Luck and wishes she were still there. Maybe she does at times like the one in the Post Office, but I’m sure there are other times when she looks at her sons with love and pride and wouldn’t trade them for all the crab and salmon in the sea.

***
I attended a party the other night with people from church whom I don’t know very well. Somehow we split up into women around one table and men around the other. I soon found myself the alien in the group. Not only did I not have a husband to bring, but I don’t have children. All of these women seem to have grown children and grandchildren to talk about. It was a long evening. The division between the Mom Club and those of us without children never ends.

Paradise, Piece by Piece

Sue Fagalde Lick Molly Peacock, Paradise, Piece by Piece

I just finished reading a book by poet Molly Peacock called Paradise, Piece by Piece. Her first foray into prose, it tells the story of why she decided not to have children and how that decision has played out in her life. It offers some touching insights, plus it’s a wonderfully written memoir about a child who had a terrible childhood and struggled to find her way as an adult. I had a hard time putting it down. It has been out since 1998, so you can probably find a used copy. Highly recommended. Read more about Peacock at www.mollypeacock.org.

Peacock maintains that although women who don’t have children do seem to miss a stage in growing up, other life experiences, such as the deaths of their parents, will bring them to full maturity in time.

She also notes that several other famous female authors, including Louisa May Alcott, have been childless. She raises the question of whether one can be dedicated to both one’s art and the many challenges of being a parent. What do you think?

We’ve got to talk about it

Sue Fagalde Lick childless by marriage, talk about children before marriage

I wound up childless because I didn’t have THE CONVERSATION with my husbands-to-be before we got married. I did not tell them I definitely wanted children and make sure they wanted them, too. I just assumed. It’s always a bad idea to assume anything. You might be wrong.

I get lots of e-mails these days from women, and a few men, who are in the same position. They thought they’d have children. They married or entered long-time partnerships, discovering later that their mates did not share their desire for offspring. I have heard stories of hidden vasectomies, forced abortions, and, most often, partners who just refused to discuss having children. My friends, if they refuse to talk about it, they are probably also going to refuse to parent–or maybe they have concerns that can be worked out. You’ll never know for sure if you don’t put it in words.

In my own situation, I have come to realize that if I had communicated how important it was for me to have children, my husband would have cooperated. Yes, he said he didn’t want more children, and I know he meant it, but I also know after all these years, that he loved me enough to do it to make me happy. I didn’t say the words. I was afraid I’d lose him.

We also need to talk about it with our friends and relatives. One man recently told me he’s afraid to say anything to his childless friends about the fact that he has children and they don’t. That’s how friendships end and the world divides into parents and non-parents. Sometimes it hurts not to have children. Let your friends know that, but know they don’t have to hide their kids from you either. Talk about it. It will make life a lot easier.

A Few Men Finally Get It

Sue Fagalde Lick childless by marriage

…Recently in the gynecology waiting room, I seemed to be the only one who wasn’t pregnant or accompanied by children. When one new mom was called in, her husband took over care of their baby. Oh, how tenderly he touched that soft skin, how gently he lifted his daughter out of her carrier and cradled her in his arm. Why did I not marry a man like that, I thought. A few minutes later, I was in the examining room answering questions: How many children? None. How many pregnancies? None. Post-menopausal? Yes.

This is the final paragraph of a section of my Childless by Marriage book that I read at an open mic last night. The audience was so silent I thought I had bombed, but afterward, many people came up to tell me how moved they were by what I had written. Most of them were men. In fact, one began by asking, “Are you all right?” My words had been so emotional he thought I must be in terrible pain. I assured him I was fine. The men, all about the right age to be my husband if I weren’t already married to Fred, said they admired me for saying such private things out loud, that they didn’t realize how a woman might feel about not having children, and that most people are afraid to talk about the subject with their childless friends and relatives.

It was encouraging and enlightening. I have always thought my main audience was women. But perhaps men will read more to find out what we haven’t told them.